Come At Me
by Golden Sketch
Summary: Reader x Pieter Krämer You are a Bella, a proud one at that. But when the tragedy of Amy splitting her pants at the Kennedy center, you and your group plummet down hill. On top of juggling college, the Bella's, and your job that you are trying to keep from Chloe; you may have accidentally fallen in love with a man on the team who stole your tour. How will you make it out of this?
1. Kennedy Center Performance

You paced back and forth in the dressing room, your chest tight and fluttering faster than you had ever felt it before. Looking into the mirror, you caught a glimpse of your sequin blue and black outfit; your (h/l) (h/c) pulled back into a pony tail, and your skin slightly glittery from whatever Stacie had sprayed you with.

You were preforming for the president- on his birthday- in the Kennedy center- and in front of millions of watchers. Oh god, you were going to be sick. It wasn't so much of having to preform that caught you, it was just all the pressure from who was watching and why you were doing it and where you were doing it-

"(Y/N)!" Turning, you saw Chloe standing there with a wide eyed expression, "We are on in like, three minutes!"

"Chloe," you tried as she dragged you out of the room and down the hallways, "I don't think I can do this!"

"Oh relax," she stopped and turned, placing her hands on your shoulders, "You are a Bella! This is your second year, and if you want to lead the Bella's after the others have graduated, you have to have confidence! Like me!"

As she just said, you were starting your Sophomore year of College; you joined the Barden Bella's last year, and had quickly been appointed a soloist. Currently, you were studying Mythology, Art, Film, and Photography; don't ask, it simply interested you.

"Okay," you breathed, playing with the end of your pony tail a bit, "I can do this; what can go wrong?"

"I have missed thirty-nine calls from my mother," you announced dully, sitting in the small chair by the window in your motel room, "twenty-five from my father, sixteen from my sisters, and over thirty from an assortment of other family members and friends. I can never show my face again; it is official."

"It wasn't that bad," Becca protested from her bed, "It could have been worse!"

Needless to say, your performance in front of all of America would most certainly lead to your family disowning you. People always say hindsight is 20/20, and you could most certainly agree that it was right now; what the hell were you all thinking with having Fat Amy hang from the ceiling?!

She had gotten tangled in the silk ropes, and managed to turn herself upside down and- here was the best part- split her pants. Now, that itself would be redeemable by your group, but Fat Amy wasn't wearing underwear, so she exposed her -ahem- nether regions to all America, and the President.

"How," you groaned, looking at her, "How could that have been anyworse?!"

"I don't know," she groaned, flopping on the bed. You followed suit and collapsed on your own bed, staring at the ceiling, "What is going to happen now, Becca?"

"I don't know," she rolled over to look at you, "But it was an accident; so by some fault, they will have to understand."

"I don't think they have to do anything," you replied, "But what is the worst they can do?"

Suddenly, the door to your room flew open and banged against the wall; Chloe came storming in, her face nearly as red as her hair.

"What are we going to do?!" She cried, throwing herself on your bed. You frowned and patted her back, watching as the rest of the Bella's filed into the room. They gathered around your beds and you sat up, leaning against the head board.

"Nothing, but apologize," You stated, looking over to Becca who nodded at you.

"Is there anything else we can really do?" Flo asked, closing the door.

"No!" Chloe threw her hands up, "Nothing! Everything I have worked for! Just gone!"

"Chloe, chill-" Becca started, but was cut off by the buzzing of your phone. You checked who was calling and groaned, "Oh god, Becca, it's my mom again."

 **So, this is the first chapter. As you can obviously tell, this is around you, the reader; you are a Sophomore in Barden while studying to be either a photographer or a movie producer (maybe an artist or animator!). You are a soloist for the Bella's, mainly because you have the ability to hold a note for a very long time, also you are a choreographer.**

 **Your nickname is "Click", because you are taking pictures of everyone you possibly can; so they are nearly always hearing your camera clicks.**

 **Your friends with everyone, but especially close to Becca and Stacie; Becca because she helps you when you are stressed, and Stacie simply always hung around you and became your friend because she loved having pictures taken of her.**

 **Also, you have your own blog where you publish your pictures, and such as others.**

 **I will publish the next chapter as soon as I can!**

 **-Sketch**


	2. Worrying About It All

You sat at the island counter, shifting through the countless hate mail that had come in the past few months; mainly aimed towards Fat Amy.  
"It was an accident," you complained to the currently empty house, looking through the papers. Everyone was either at work, school, or simply had to get out; and to be honest, you couldn't blame them.

You eventually had to face the music with your mother- whom assured you that she was severely disappointed in you, with your father- who had apparently laughed his ass off when he saw the ending result of your performance, your sisters- half had the same reaction as your father, the other half feeling sympathetic for you, and the rest was everything from drunken death threats to reminders it wasn't your fault.

Life around school had become difficult for you all; people insulted you, few tried to console, and over all you had been somewhat shunned as lepers.  
"We didn't mean it!" you called to the empty house, your voice echoing off the walls, "Just a small wardrobe malfunction! We apologized! What more can we do?!"

Groaning, you crossed your arms before laying your head down on them, "And now I am talking to myself; just great." You stood and stretched, walking into the living room and unceremoniously falling onto the couch; thinking over it, you decided you needed to distract yourself.

Tomorrow, the A-Capella committee representatives would be meeting with the Dean of Barden University; and you were really, really nervous.  
The Bella's were by no means your life; you had your camera, your sketchbook, your life, all of it was on track. All of it but the Bella's was nearly perfect; granted, you were only a week into this college year and you were already ready to cry from the amount of work the professor's had given you, but you were still doing good.

"Hey (Y/N)," Becca greeted while walking in the house; she dropped her bag and sat on the couch adjacent to you, "How are you?"

"Tired," you replied tiredly, "I've been going through hate mail all day. How about you? Any news for your internship?"

"No," she groaned, looking rather depressed, "Maybe I shouldn't do this."

"No!" you sat up and glared at her, "Becca, the Bella's are important, but you are graduating college this year! You need to do this!"

"Okay," she laughed, "I got it; how's work for you going?"

You worked at a coffee shop off the campus, mainly so you wouldn't run into any of the other Bella's, and had been working there for nearly a year. You loved it, honestly; the smell of coffee and tea kept you awake, and you loved their frappes.

"Alright," you stood, smiling down at her, "Don't forget about tomorrow, meeting with the Dean and all that. I'm going to bed; night Becca."

"Good night!" she called as you walked down the hallway. Turning around the small corners, you finally made it to your shoe box room. The other girls all had roommates, except you; no, you were not special, it was merely the room could only fit one person.  
It was really, really, tiny. Luckily, after browsing Ikea, you managed to find the perfect fit for your room; it was a bed, with a small little cubical above it. So, even though you had to climb a small ladder to get to your laptop/studio, you made it work.

You shut your door and crawled onto your bed, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. On the top of your bunk, you had a smooth surface filled with pictures; your family, your friends, some of your previous pets….

The Bella's were not the world to you, but they were your family; and you were honestly terrified to see what would happen without them. Being a Bella is what brought you all together; so what would happen in the future if the Bella's were no more?

 **Special thanks to Randomnessismee for favoring this story so far.**


	3. Going to Work

You sighed while sitting up, stretching with a small groan. You looked over to your phone, glaring at the screen that had previously illuminated your dark room; and the music that blared, telling you that someone was trying to call you.

"Hello?" you greeted, glaring at your ceiling.

"Miss (Last Name)!" oh, it was your boss for your second job, "I need you to come in today."

Not only did you have a part time at a coffee shop, but you managed to land a pretty awesome internship at a professional photography studio; not the type that did school pictures, but worked with high end business groups.

"Mrs. Kane," you greeted in a soft voice, "I wasn't scheduled to come into today, ma'am."

"Tiffany called in, and is no longer employed here," she hissed, "We have a very, very high paying musical group coming in today, and I need you to help supervise the shoot."

"I understand, ma'am," you sat up and crawled out of bed, flipping your light on, ""But I have an important meeting with the dean of my school today at nine. Can I come in at ten?"

"Not a minute later," she warned, "I'll email you the files."

You bid her goodbye and started to collect your items, picking out your clothes and retrieving the email, making sure to print the files for a later viewing while you went ahead and made it to the showers. Luckily, you were one of the first ones to wake, which meant you got all the hot water needed.

You sighed while placing your hair in a towel wrap as you dressed (your outfit is #1 in the chapter's picture; #2 is what you were to the photography studio for your internship!). Making sure to straighten your hair, you hummed along to Pandora while staring at yourself in the mirror.

Originally, you planned on having a lazy day and not doing anything; but since Mrs. Kane called you in, you would probably not make it home in time for dinner. You unplugged the straightening iron and pulled your hair back into a bun, making sure to use the professional technique that was recommended for girls with (hair length) hair at your work.

"Yo, you done yet, (Y/N)?" Cynthia Rose called, knocking on the door. You smiled and walked out, grabbing your stuff, "Yeah; there should be hot water left. "

You walked back into your room, and made sure to gather the files; you didn't pay much attention, only organized them and placed them into your bag. You gathered the various other things before moving to the front door and calling a goodbye to all who could hear you, before walking out.

"Is your bae giving you a ride?" You teased Becca, who was leaning against the mailbox.

"Oh my god, do not say bae again, (Y/N)," She sighed, "but yes, he is going to swing by before he goes to the freshmen orientation."

"You could always ditch that looser and take a ride with me," you suggested, gesturing to your motorcycle that stood proudly in the driveway, "It would be a hell of a lot funnier."

"Never, would I ride on that death trap," she deadpanned, "See you later, Click."

"See ya," you laughed, getting on and backing up; you waved and slid on your helmet while taking off down the street.

Parking your bike, you walked to a bench and sat; it would be at least thirty minutes before anyone else got here. You pulled out your files and decided to flip through the pictures; who exactly did your employer wanted you to take pictures of today?

"Das Sound Machine?" you hummed, looking through the files, "Never heard of them."

After checking out the files and looking through where they wanted their pictures taken, you hummed in thought. They were professional singers, so they probably wanted sophisticated pictures. You shook your head and slid them back in your bags, deciding that you should go ahead and head to the dean's office.

On your way there, you met up with Becca and the other Bella's, and together, you moved towards the dean's office.

"I'm not sure we can beat them," you stated softly, walking with Becca to your bike; it was after the meeting, and you were feeling part of yourself dying inside. You wanted to be a Bella, but if you couldn't win the Worlds, there would be no Bellas for you to partake in.

"Of course we can," Becca disagreed, "We are fucking awesome; don't ever believe otherwise."

"Whatever you say," you rolled your eyes. You nearly told Chloe and the others that you were going to work so you could take professional pictures of the team that stole your tour, but then you realized how bad that would sound so you kept it to yourself.

"Good luck at work," Becca called while you hopped on your bike; nodding, you placed your helmet on and took off, praying you would make it in time.

Luckily, you managed to pull up two minutes to 10. Parking your bike and grabbing your helmet, you brushed back your hair in a semi decent manner before walking in the back.

"Good luck," one of the full time employees whispered to you, taking your helmet, "The group looks terrifying; I don't envy you for having to do it."

"Aw, thanks," you mumbled, pausing before you walked into the front room where you could hear the classical violin music over the speakers, as well as the low murmur of a small crowd. You took a deep breath and walked through, looking around the room curiously.

"Ah, (y/n), just in time, as always," your boss cooed, walking over to you and patting your shoulder," Please, this is my brightest intern, (Your full name); (y/n), this is Das Sound Machine."

 **~  
Dun dun dun; oh the joy of cliff hangers. I'll admit, it has been far too long since I did one. So; thank you all who has hearted and commented on this story, and I hope I don't disappoint.**

 **Anyways, I will update as soon as possible for me, and I want you all to know that I love every single one of you so much.**

 **-Sketch**


	4. Photo Shoot

"Okay, please people! Let's move on!" Honestly, you thought tiredly, the fearsome DSM were nothing but children. They had looked terrifying enough, especially the leader, Kommissar, and her co-captain, Pieter; but once you had started to walk around the city, taking pictures, you found they were actually, well, normal.  
"Do they always act like this?" you questioned the closest person to you, not really knowing who it was.  
"Sadly," jumping slightly, you found it was Kommissar, with a tired and bored look on her face, "They are like giant children, I swear."  
"I know the feeling," you agreed, "I feel the same way about my friends."  
You had felt relieved that they didn't recognize you face; because, you weren't a celebrity, but you and the Bellas had become easy to recognize in this area.  
"How about we head back to the studio so I can get individual pictures?" You suggested, turning slightly. Kommissar nodded and called to the team, getting their immediate attention as they started to follow you back to the vans.

"Just look this way," you instructed, "No- tilt your head up a bit- good-now look a tad to the left… oops, no, my left- perfect, now don't move." Kommissar stood like a statue, having followed your instructions perfectly. You snapped the photo, the clicks of your camera echoing in the small room.  
This time, no small talk was made, only a comfortable silence as you continued to do your job, until finally, "Alright ma'am; your all done. Can you please send in Pieter?"  
"No problem," she breezed, walking out of the room elegantly, "Thank you, Miss (Your last name)."  
"Hello," Pieter came in, smiling cheekily. You smiled slightly, appreciating his god-like body structure as you gestured to the stool in the middle of the room, "Hi; can you sit there, please?"  
"Not a problem," he sat on the stool and you hummed in approval while setting up your camera; finally, you looked up again, "Okay, now tilt your head a bit to the left."  
"This way?" he said, tilting it in the complete opposite direction.  
"No," you said with a small laugh, "the other way."  
"This…?" he feigned confusion and looked down, causing you to roll your eyes and abandon your camera, walking over to help him.  
"No," you corrected, gently gripping his chin and lifting his head and tilting it to the position you wanted. His eyes locked on yours, and you prayed your blush wasn't to noticeable; after getting it in the right direction, you smiled slightly, "Perfect."  
You went back to your camera and looked through the lenses,"Okay, Pieter, I need your eyes to be looking at the camera- but only your eyes- perfect. Stay just like that… okay, now look off into the distant, same direction as your head is in… no, you look like you are going to be sick; imagine you are looking at the World's Championship. That- that is awesome, keep that look."  
You quickly took the picture and smiled while leaning back, "Okay, now position your body towards me, and spread your legs."  
"Pardon?"  
"Oh my-" you blushed and laughed slightly at how that sounded, "No- we need multiple poses, that is just one of them. Here," you made your way towards him, "Just let me show you."  
Walking forward, you place your hands on his shoulder and tilted him slightly towards the camera; you then placed your hands on his knees, spreading his legs slightly before placing your hands on his shoulders again, you hunched his back a little, and took his elbows to place them on his knees, his fingers laced.  
Finally, you placed your hands on his face, and tilted it down slightly, "Eyes on me, please." His eyes went back to yours and you nodded slightly, satisfied, "Okay, look directly at the camera."  
You hurried back and took the picture, smiling as it came up on the screen you had stationed next to it, "That is wonderful, Pieter; that is all, also."  
"Oh-" he stood and cleared his throat, "Well, then shall I be going?"  
"Yes," you averted your eyes, "You may. You were my last client; everyone else is done. I will edit the photos and have them ready for your all in a month."  
"Great," he smiled, "It was wonderful meeting you, Miss (Your last name); I can't wait to here from you again."

 **Short chapter, I know and I am sorry. But school is killing me, and it is hard to find the time to write. I want to send a quick shout out to the people have reviewed and hearted; you guys are awesome.**  
 **In the next chapter, we get to see the Bellas officially meeting DSM at the car show. So, I will see you all as soon as I can with another chapter; bye!**  
 **-Sketch**


End file.
